


Lost and Found

by Tzitzimitl



Series: The Lioness [1]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: F/M, Possibly Unrequited Love, its been 500 years since i wrote, no incel shit tho, so ill tag this as i update it, tw blood mention, tw death mention, tw injury, we accept love in all forms without condition in this house
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-14
Updated: 2018-08-14
Packaged: 2019-06-27 11:56:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15684954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tzitzimitl/pseuds/Tzitzimitl
Summary: Mjoll lost both her sense of self and her sword in Mzinchaleft, but perhaps her new companion can bring her back to life. Of course, what he asks for in return may be more than she is willing to give.





	Lost and Found

Mjoll could feel the icy bite of the snow seeping into her flesh as her vision began to clear. Someone was carrying her, and she could feel the urgency in their steps with each bounce. A lock of dark hair swept across her cheek as the person carrying her faltered for a moment; she grunted as she jerked forward across their shoulders, but their panicked questioning was drowned out by the sounds of steam and metal clashing still ringing in her ears. Her vision began to fade again for a moment. She could feel the blood clinging against her forehead, the light dusting of snow that covered it; but the smell of the trees that surrounded them let her know they had left the mountain tops. 

She took in as deep a breath as possible, as much as the intermittent nausea allowed, only to find the man carrying her smelled like the lake her father took her to the first time she went fishing. It had been a perfect day: the sun wasn’t too bright, the wind came often, and the fish were practically leaping in the boat.

Years, perhaps a decade, had passed since Mjoll had thought of that day. As far as last thoughts go, she had heard of worse… had heard worse. Of course, she knew she was dying. The Centurion was too strong, she was too weak. As the man carrying her hurried with surer feet than before, Mjoll wondered if she would feast in the Hall of Valor. Was she strong enough, brave enough, was she…. Good enough. The man began to say something to her again, some hurried exclamation, but Mjoll’s body was once again limp against him.

\-----------

It was several minutes after she opened her eyes that she registered someone else was in the room with her. Panicked, she went for her sword but it wasn’t there, and neither was her armor. It had all been replaced with linen undergarments and well worn linen sheets. Her head throbbed as she took in her surroundings; raising a hand to her wound she found it wrapped in bandages. Aside from being stripped down, she appeared to be well cared for. 

“Oh, you’ve woken!” A man exclaimed, and ran over to her. Gripping the edge of the bed he looked her over and patiently waited for her to answer. Mjoll took in everything she could about him- his brunette hair, the faint scent of a lake that emanated from him, the way he cautiously yet softly watched her. She tried to speak but her throat protested, only offering her an empty croak. The man looked thoughtful for a moment, then ran off before returning with a cup of water while answering her unasked question.

“My name is Aerin. I’m who found you, and I brought you back here to the Temple of Mara.” Mjoll scanned her surroundings, but the room looked less like a Temple and more like a- 

“Oh, this isn’t the temple. I… brought you back to my house after.” Aerin spoke as a faint blush dusted his cheeks. “ I didn’t trust that you’d be safe. This city isn’t… safe.” He released his hold on the bed and sat in a nearby chair. 

Once her throat began to ease, Mjoll finally spoke. “Thank you, Aerin for helping me. I am Mjoll. You must let me repay you for your kindness.” She sat upright as she spoke, attempting to look as respectable as possible. Aerin brought her into his home, it was the least she could do to deserve his kindness. Aerin laughed nervously as she watched him, the pink of his blush deepening into a respectable red. 

“Please, you should focus on getting better. What kind of man would I be to leave you to die in the snow? And what were you even doing out there? I heard Falmer live in the dwarven ruins.” The last part was almost a whisper, as Aerin’s eyes darted to the side to catch some unknown falmer waiting to pounce. She could see great kindness in Aerin, and the same urge to do right by people as she had. However she didn’t peg him as much of a fighter, so she considered using her own ability for violence as repayment. 

“You said this city isn’t safe. Why is is not safe? Bandits?” Violence towards bandits was a specialty of hers, and one that she eagerly indulged in. 

“Oh, not so much bandits. Thieves, crooks, a whole load of worse kind. Riften isn’t a place that the good people thrive in.” Aerin rose and grabbed himself an ale, starting with a long deep swallow. “You ever been here? If Maven doesn't sink her hands into you, the Thieves Guild will. Not that they're separated anyway.” He stared into his horn mug as he spoke, embarrassment coloring his face. Opening his mouth to continue, he seemed to think better of it and looked up at the woman in his bed. “How are you feeling? I worried I didn't find you soon enough.” Slowly making his way back to the bed, he sat as close to the edge as possible and began examining her wrappings. 

Mjoll let him check her over as she thought about what he confessed. She had heard of Riften, but had yet to make her way to visit it. There were rumors about a Thieves Guild here, and her strong code of honor bid her to at least investigate it. Mjoll searched the room for Grimsever instinctively, her armor had been wiped clean and set on a mannequin in the corner but her sword was nowhere to be seen. An emptiness filled her as she realized her loss. Grimsever reminded her of her purpose, her past. Without it, she was as lost as it was. Aerin followed her eyes and awkwardly shifted next to her.

“That's all I saw on you. I swear. I-I didn't take any of it, and didn't let anyone else touch it. You were in my care so I'd never-” 

She cut him off with an easy smile. “I was just looking for my sword, Grimsever. I suppose it was left behind in Mzinchaleft. Thank you, Aerin. I can… feel what a good person you are. Let me repay you. When I heal I'll find a way to help this town.” Determination burned in her eyes, and her resolve was set. Even without her glass companion, she'd do what she could. To think people one step away from banditry were left to do as they wish, it sickened her. Mjoll laid back onto her pillow, and closed her eyes, willing herself to heal quickly and begin her new quest.

\-------

Aerin proved to be an invaluable companion. He cared for her entirely until she was able to move, and gave her space and independence once she did. Mjoll found herself even happy at times, his rich throaty laugh and the ever present water smell both reminded her of her father. There was almost a sense of home about him. As they began to venture into the city he was ever present at her side, introducing her to the townspeople with little asides and notes about them. He warned her of who was who, and always proved to be right. However, even with her nervous, patient companion providing a source of comfort and joy, Mjoll found a uneasiness settling into her. This city was utterly corrupt, and those who weren't were too powerless to do anything about it. Life in Riften was not secure. One day she was confronting Sapphire about extortion, the next she was ripping her bag out of pickpocket's hands. The guards had learned to groan in annoyance every time they saw her hurrying towards them. The townspeople were always kind to her, though several seemed to try and stay out of line of sight. The merchants loved her. 

Every morning she still rose ready to bring justice, but by the evening she slumped tiredly into a wooden chair and wondered how much the city wanted to be saved. Aerin’s presence was her only constant comfort. He had asked her to teach him some swordplay, inspired by her actions. In return he provided her room and board, and each day made their friendship richer and more fulfilling. She could easily ignore the lingering looks and gentle eyes he gave her, his obvious pity over her luck didn't diminish their friendship. Even with the endless struggle against the city, Mjoll was finally beginning to feel purposeful again and her resolve became stronger each day for it. She  
going to save the city, so that all could find the peace that she once had herself. In a time, long ago.

One evening, Mjoll took her time returning home. She had met someone that day. A stranger in dark armour who had questioned her about the city. Their discussion had come around to Grimsever, the sword she lost in the dwarven ruin. She couldn't figure out why, but she was compelled to ask them to look for it should they go into Mzinchaleft. Perhaps it had been something in their darkness shrouded eyes, maybe a strong look of determination or it could have been a wild rush of adrenaline at the challenge. Either was possible, based on her own days of roaming. Did she miss it? That was the question on her mind. She had never even considered going back for Grimsever, immediately accepting it as lost to her. That was what hang heavy over her head. Somewhere deep down, her defeat by the Centurion - a colossus not meant for any man to fight- had affected her more than she realized. Had she just latched onto the first person who gave her a purpose? Aerin was an incredible friend, she'd never regret meeting him. But the city… maybe this city was the pointless battle that replaced the monstrosity she couldn't defeat. 

Aerin was setting the table as she walked into their shared home, and greeted her with his usual warm smile. 

“Lucky for me you got home later than normal. I was late to start dinner so let's say we're both on time.” He gestured for her to sit and grabbed two clay cups for their drinks. 

“I met someone interesting today,” she began as she cut into her roast chicken. Aerin stiffed a bit, and silently ate as he stared at his food. “It was a stranger who is new to town. I didn't get a good look at them underneath the hood they wore. But… they said they'd find Grimsever for me.” Mjoll couldn't bring herself to look at him as her thoughts weighed heavy on her. 

Aerin slowly chewed his food and swallowed before answering. “If they do bring it back, are you leaving Riften?” It wasn't something she had even considered. With Grimsever back she would be back to her complete strength. She could leave this cursed place and go where she was useful again. Aerin warily watched her. 

“I don't know.” she answered honestly. 

It didn't take long before she had to decide. A month later, a stranger wondered up to her, and held out a glass sword. The magic that hummed from it called to her, begged her to claim it again. Mjoll grabbed the hilt and finally felt whole again. Whoever this stranger was, they were a friend of hers in perpetuity. She rewarded them as best as she was able, and pledged to repay them should they ever need her. The stranger offered an ominous smile, and thanked her before moving into the shadows. 

Grimsever was never this heavy before. She held it tightly on her way home, the grip was still comfortable in her hands. She knew she could wield it as easily as before. But something about it was uncomfortable. She entered the house quietly, but when she went to place it on the table, the wood groaned loudly underneath it. Aerin appeared as if summoned by the table's complaint. He stared at the sword, and then at Mjoll. There was an uneasy silence between them, which only worsened as he rushed towards her and gripped her hands in his own. 

“They brought it back. Don't go, please. Stay. This city needs you. I need you.” The emotions that swam in his eyes were too much for her. She stepped back, pulling away from him. She understood what he was asking of her. The day he rescued her rose in her mind and her own questions came back to her as she looked between him and Grimsever. He… wanted more. The looks weren't pity at all. 

Was she strong enough to go, brave enough to stay? Was she good enough to look him in the eye, knowing what he asked of her, not knowing if she could give it to him.

**Author's Note:**

> Its been a loooong time since I wrote, so sorry I'm so rusty. I'll get better as I get back in the saddle. This will be part of a series focused on Mjoll, and I have a companion piece for the Dragonborn planned :) I hope y'all like it!


End file.
